


Ocean's Don't Get Sick

by yaustalla333



Category: Ocean's (Movies), Ocean's 8, Ocean's Eight
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 03:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaustalla333/pseuds/yaustalla333
Summary: Debbie, like all people who say they don't get sick, inevitably gets sick, and is really fucking lucky it's kind of adorable and her wife loves her so much.





	Ocean's Don't Get Sick

“Hi Dad” Constance calls out from the couch, Nine Ball and Amita’s distracted voices echoing hers as Lou strides into the loft, stopping short in the foyer and pulling her sunglasses up to the top of her head. 

“Where’s your mother?” Lou asks, having recently given up on trying to get their bratty kids to stop calling her Dad. 

“Dunno.” Constance replies shortly, too focused on whatever video game she’s playing to give the question a lot of thought. 

“She upstairs.” Nine Ball says, also entranced in the video game, but playing way more casually than Constance, and kicking both her ass and Amita’s, who hasn’t figured out the difference between the ‘run’ and ‘kick’ controls. 

Lou furrows her brow at this as she moves on from the open living room and into the equally open kitchen, where Tammy is sitting with Rose, both of them trying to figure out how the FaceTime app worked in order to chat with Daphne who was on set in Hawaii. 

“Debbie’s in your room.” Tammy says, in lieu of a formal greeting. Lou nods once and turns on her heel, walking up the stairs slowly, listening for any sign of what her wife may be doing. Debbie didn’t usually hang out in their bedroom during the day, unless it was to wake Lou up if she slept past noon, or to wake Lou up from her late afternoon nap when it was time for her to make dinner, or if they were fooling around during the day. Regardless, she was not one to hang out in bed alone during the day. Debbie was not a lounger, or a napper. So when Lou poked open the door to the last bedroom on the right, she cursed silently when she saw a tangle of brown hair curled up, still wearing a white button down black dress slacks and heels, asleep on Lou’s side of the bed. 

“Debs?” She called softly, inching towards the bed carefully. “Baby wake up.” She whispers when she reaches her wife’s sleeping form, crouching down next to the bed and running a careful hand up her wife’s arm to her forehead. She pressed a gentle kiss into the crown of brown hair, finally causing her to stir. 

“Hi Honey.” Debbie croaked, and Lou’s heart almost broke, she sounded so sick. 

“Hi Baby,” Lou smiled gently. “You’re not feeling so great, huh?” She asks, placing her hand back on Debbie’s forehead, who in a classic Ocean move shifts away. 

“I’m fine. ‘M just resting.” She murmurs, eyes fluttering shut again. 

“Deborah.” Lou begins, already preparing herself for battle. Debbie, who swore she never got sick, was a real bitch to take care of when she happened to feel a little under the weather. 

“Louanne.” Debbie answers back, cracking one eye open to watch Lou’s reaction to her full name. 

“Come on, baby, you’re burning up.” Lou sighs, not even giving into the rise Debbie wants from her by using her full name. 

“Is that you’re way of saying you think I’m hot?” Debbie smirks, and Lou bites back a smile at her stubborn, funny wife. 

“You already know how hot I think you are, Baby.” Lou places a kiss on Debbie’s warm temple. “I’m gonna go get some medicine, and a thermometer.” She says, quickly moving to stand before an uncharacteristic whine escapes Debbie’s throat. 

“Can you just stay?” Debbie asks, sheepishly looking down as she picks at the blanket in her lap. “Just for a minute?” She adds, when she sees Lou about to protest that she needs medicine. 

“Okay.” Lou says softly, nudging the brunette over to her own side of the bed before slipping in after her and accepting the brunt of her wife’s across her body. “Only for a minute. Don’t think this means I’m not getting medicine.” She warns, guiltily enjoying the feeling of Debbie’s warm face nuzzling into her collarbone. “Have you eaten anything today?” She asks gently, unsurprised when Debbie shakes her head. 

“Not hungry.” She answers shortly, and Lou can tell she’s starting to drift off again as tired eyelashes flutter against her neck. 

“Hmm. Want me to make you something? Some soup? Pasta?” Lou prompts, shaking her shoulders to get a response from Debbie, who simply grunted something that sounded like ‘nuh uh’ and continued to burrow herself in the Lou and the blankets. 

“Come on, Debs. I’ll be right back.” Lou sighs, gently prying herself from her wife’s clammy grasp. “You need fluids.” She reminds the brunette, who whines in a way that Lou might normally find cute if it wasn’t being associated with refusing medical care. 

“‘M fine.” Debbie says. “Don’t get sick.” Although Lou is barely listening to her at this point, already squeezing her hand and slinking out of their room and back downstairs to the best stocked medicine cabinet (courtesy of Tammy, of course). She pries open the somewhat rusty cabinet and sifts through piles of band aids and other first aid supplies. Honestly, Lou wasn’t really sure what she was looking for. Debbie was the only person she had ever really cared about enough to take care of when she was sick, and true to her words she didn’t get sick often. Lou got sick more, but luckily most of the times she can remember Debbie had been there taking care of her, so she didn’t have to do much. After reading a couple labels she grabs a tongue thermometer and some liquid fever reducer, keeping in mind Debbie’s aversion to pills. 

She shares a knowing look with Tammy, who’s pretending she’s no longer in the room as Daphne and Rose start spewing gross affectionate sentiments through FaceTime, as Lou pours a glass of cold water before bounding up the stairs. She’s pretty impressed by the shortness of her trip, though it’s soon clear that she wasn’t quite quick enough when Debbie is no longer where Lou left her in the middle of their bed, and she hears sniffling from the bathroom. 

Placing down the medicine and the thermometer, Lou takes the water into their bathroom and places it on the sink before sinking down and rubbing a careful hand down her wife’s shuddering back as her head reenters the toilet seat. Poor Debbie didn’t like anything about being sick, but she downright despised throwing up. Her least favorite part was the lingering nose residue. With Lou by her side now, she felt a little calmer, but she still couldn’t hold back some tears out of sheer misery with her current situation. Lou stayed quiet for the most part, rubbing her back and tying up her hair and pressing light kisses into the back of her neck in between bouts of nausea. Finally, when it all seemed to be over, Lou reached over and flushed the toilet. 

“Feel any better, baby?” She asked quietly, frowning slightly when Debbie simply shrugged her shoulders. The blonde sighed, helping Debbie up so she was now seated on the toilet seat, before starting a bath and helping her wife out of her freaking business casual attire before helping her brush her teeth and blow her nose a few more times. 

“How is it?” She asks, holding out a steady arm as Debbie weakly sinks into the bathtub, smiling when the only response she gets is a contented nod as the brunette closes her eyes. 

“Careful, baby, stay with me for now.” She says, washing her wife’s face with a gentle washcloth before moving to the rest of her body. “Shall we wash your hair?” She asks, a bit of mirth in her smile, already knowing that Debbie was such a softie for having Lou wash her hair. Wetting silky brown locks after Debbie nodded her confirmation, Lou worked in the shampoo until she was 88% sure Debbie was basically asleep, before washing it out gently, and just in time as her wife started to shiver. 

“Do you think I’m sick?” Debbie asks, a little more alert than she had been in the hour before, as Lou dries her off and helps her into one of her old t shirts and a pair of underwear. 

Lou can’t fight back the eye roll that answers Debbie’s question for her, as she holds out the thermometer to her wife’s mouth. “Open.” She commands, and Debbie, in a moment of gratitude for the woman who kissed her even after she vomited, accepted the plastic stick under her tongue and waited patiently until a flat beeping echoed in the room. 

“103. 5” Lou reads. “I’d say a bit under the weather.” She says, the sympathetic lingering kiss to Debbie’s temple chipping away at her sarcastic commentary. She pours out the appropriate amount of medicine for an adult, although she questions this decision when Debbie’s lips pucker at the sight of the liquid. 

“Come on, Debs.” She persuades. “It will make you feel better.” She leverages, knowing that above all Debbie wants to not be sick anymore. At this, and perhaps at realizing her petulance, Debbie takes the medicine, followed by a few gulps of water, before happily burrowing herself back into her blankets, and breathing out somewhat contentedly as Lou joins her in bed. The brunette falls asleep almost instantly, snoring slightly (something she only does when she’s not feeling well), and murmuring in German every once in a while. Awake sick Debbie is kind of a pain in the ass, but sleeping sick Debbie is kind of adorable, and Lou stays awake just listening and making sure her fever doesn’t go up until she succumbs to the slow deep breaths radiating from her wife’s chest, and falls asleep right next to her. 

Tammy sells the picture she takes when she goes up to check on them to Constance for $35, and Debbie almost kills all of them when she sees their “Family Holiday Card” that year.


End file.
